


It's Bittersweet to Love You

by MissMR



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kind of Christmas, Minor Character Death, and octavia is there, bellamy is protective, clarke is mourning, wells is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:15:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21778930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMR/pseuds/MissMR
Summary: “Clarke, look at me.” The voice seemed distant to Clarke. It wasn’t until she felt the warmth of hands around her wrist that she realized Bellamy was kneeling in front of her. “Breathe.”“He’s,” she gasped for air, “my dad, he-he’s gone.” A heart wrenching sobbed came from Clarke before she felt arms circle around her. And, she doesn’t remember much after that.(Or, Clarke is away from home for the first time when she gets the news about her dad, and she struggles with the guilt of feeling happy because she thinks it's too soon.)
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 115





	It's Bittersweet to Love You

**Author's Note:**

> This piece happened because I always wanted to read a fanfic where Bellamy was with Clarke when she got the news about her dad dying, so this happened. When I started writing this, I had a completely different outline of how this was going to go. But nothing was working, so this kind of turned into a bit of a holiday piece. So, I might not write the one I was originally planning. Anyways, I kind of rushed through it. I wrote this instead of studying for finals and writing essays. But I hope you enjoy!

It’s Clarke’s first time away from home, and she was pretty excited about it. It was only a few hours away, but it was something. Her mom, however, wasn’t so thrilled about this new journey for Clarke. Abbigail Griffin had big plans for Clarke ever since she was a little girl, which involved Clarke following in Abby’s footsteps and becoming a doctor. But it wasn’t what Clarke wanted.

She wanted to create art. Make a name for herself in the art world, and do it by herself without the influence of her parents’ money. She wanted to know she made it based on her talent, and it’s the very reason when her acceptance letter from NYU came in, she knew it’s where she was going to go. It was the only art portfolio she sent out, the only school she applied to where she intended to major in art. It was a secret between her and her dad. Jake Griffin was one person Clarke could count on to be in her corner, so when he pushed the possibility of art school, Clarke went for it. And, it was the path she was going to go down instead of Abby’s well thought out one.

“Are you sure you don’t want a single?” Abby had asked for the third time.

It was the day Clarke was moving into her dorm room, and she was excited to have a roommate. She had been an only child. The closest thing she had to a sibling was her best friend Wells. Their parents were old friends, so it only made sense for her and Wells to become friends which was one of the best things to happen. Wells was easily one of her favorite people, right behind her dad. But she always wanted to share a room, with a sister maybe. Wells was great, but she sometimes wished she had the bond she shared with Wells with another girl. And, maybe having a roommate was her first step to that.

“I’m sure, mom.” Clarke tried to hide her irritation.

“But—”

“Abby,” Jake interrupted her. “This will be good for Clarke.”

“So would a single or even an apartment.” Her mom had suggested the apartment first, but Clarke wanted to live on campus her first year and try to make friends. But that didn’t stop her mom from buying over the top luxuries for her dorm room. The only reason Clarke didn’t fight with her about it was that her dad told Clarke to let her mom have this one thing. It’s the reason why there was a 40” plasma TV, a mini fridge and microwave, Egyptian Cotton sheets, decorative pillows, and everything else in her room. Her side of the room looked like it was copy and pasted from a magazine catalog. It was a bit much for Clarke.

“Mom, I know this isn’t what you wanted for me, but I made my decision. I need you to stop. Please.”

“Fine, fine,” Abby said with her hands held in surrender. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

“Good.” Jake clapped his hands together. “Now, that you are all unpacked. What do you say we go get lunch before your mom and I have to head back home?”

“That sounds like a plan.”

Walking out the door, her mom linked her arm with Clarke’s. “You know I only want what’s best for you, right.”

“I know.” Which was the truth. Clarke did know, but it doesn’t mean she liked how her mom went about it sometimes.

* * *

Hours later, after saying goodbye to her parents and assuring her mom she was fine, Clarke was on her way to her room. She was a little nervous. What if her roommate didn’t like her? What if she didn’t like her roommate? Clarke had built this friendship that would blossom between her and roommate in her head that it left a lot of room for disappointment. She was really hoping she wasn’t going to be disappointed.

As Clarke approached her dorm room, she heard voices coming from inside.

“O, it looks like your roommate is a princess.”

A princess? Clarke didn’t even know what that meant, but she knew it wasn’t meant to be a compliment not with the way the words were spat out. So, Clarke unlocked the door and pushed her way inside.

“And, exactly what does that mean?”

She must have startled the two people in the room because their heads whipped in her directions, and Clarke immediately noted that both were extremely attractive. The girl, Clarke assuming her roommate, had dark straight hair, and even with the distance, Clarke could see the intensity of her green eyes. And, the girl definitely looked like she hit the gym at least once every day. And, the guy with her. Clarke hated to admit he was handsome because he called her a damn princess, but he had dark curly hair with warm brown eyes. And with his arms crossed, Clarke could see his muscles flexing. He looked like he was right there with her roommate every day at the gym. If her side of the room looked like it belonged in a home décor magazine, then these two looked like they belonged in a fitness magazine.

“It means you grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth. I’d bet you have no idea what hard work is.” He smirked, and Clarke wanted to slap him.

Her blood boiled over, and she was ready to tear into him because how dare he judge her. He didn’t know her. Yes, Clarke came from money, but she worked hard to get here. She earned this, and she wasn’t going to let some judgmental asshole make assumptions about her.

But before she could say anything, her roommate spoke up.

“Bell, stop. Actually, I think it’s time you go.” Her roommate started to push him towards the door, and Clarke stepped away, but she didn’t stop glaring at him.

“I’ll see you around, princess,” he said, but it earned him a smack in the back of the head before getting thrown out.

“I’m so sorry,” her roommate started. “That was my brother Bellamy. I’d say he wasn’t always like that, but I’d be lying.”

“Great, so I’ll be seeing a lot of him,” Clarke said it more for herself than her roommate. “I’m Clarke.” She held out her hand, and her roommate took it.

“Octavia. And, yeah, you’ll probably be seeing him again. But I’ll talk to him. I don’t want him to ruin the potential of a friendship. I’ve never had a close girlfriend before. I’ve been around boys my whole life.”

Clarke laughed. “Same with me.”

Octavia went to grab something from under her bed and pulled out a bottle of cheap raspberry vodka and two shot glasses.

“You drink?” Octavia asked holding up the bottle.

“Sometimes. Okay, not really. But, today, I’ll make an exception.”

Octavia passed Clarke a filled shot glass. “To a new friendship.” Octavia held up her shot glass, and Clarke clinked hers against it.

“To a new friendship,” Clarke repeated.

* * *

Clarke was enjoying her time at NYU. She was enjoying the one art class she was taking amongst her G.E. classes. She and Octavia were growing closer the more days passed. Staying up late talking when they should be sleeping, but both were just too excited to have a girl friend. The first few days Octavia had tried to convince Clarke that Bellamy wasn’t that bad, but Clarke was skeptical to believe her. Sure, he had apologized over the phone, but that was only because Octavia had told him to before she shoved her phone at Clarke. But she was still hoping she didn’t have to be near him, and for a while, she was lucky.

It took three and a half weeks for Clarke to see Bellamy again, and it couldn’t have happened on a worse day. Clarke felt like something dark was in the air from the moment she woke up, and it didn’t help that one bad thing after another seemed to be happening.

First, it was her being late to class because her phone was dead. She stupidly didn’t have her charger plugged in. This led to her first big assignment of the semester being late and marked down ten percent. Then, her mom picked the same day to try and convince Clarke to change her major to biology, which resulted in an hour argument. And, finally to put the icing on the cake, Finn, a boy she met at freshmen orientation who persistently kept asking her out, and she finally agreed to a date, turned out to a two-timing douchebag. And, she would have never found out had his girlfriend not called during their date and seen the picture of the two of them kissing set as the caller ID picture.

So, it was safe to say the last thing she needed was to come face to face with her roommate’s brother after her disastrous day. But there he was, standing outside her and Octavia’s dorm room.

“Octavia isn’t here.” Clarke tried to close the door, but he stuck his foot out to stop it.

“Well, then I’ll wait for her.”

“Cool, the communal area is down the hall. Go wait there.”

“See, I would. But I don’t feel like getting hit on by eighteen year olds.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “That’s awfully presumptuous of you, don’t you think?”

“And also correct. Look, I’ll wait on her side of the room.”

“I don’t—”

“Please,” he interrupted her. “I won’t bother you. I promise.”

“Fine, whatever.” Clarke stepped back, returning to her desk and ignoring the click of the door closing behind her.

The only sound that filled the room was the music Clarke had playing from her laptop. She hummed along as she hunched over her desk with her sketchpad open and her color pencils spread out. Sketching was how she liked to relax, and after the day she went through, she needed to do a whole lot of sketching. She only wished this gnawing feeling that something bad was lurking in the corner would go away.

The wished she was alone, but that didn’t seem like it was going to happen. She had an idea where Octavia was—hanging out with the TA from her sociology class—but Clarke was also sure Bellamy had no idea Octavia might kind of be seeing someone. And, if Clarke remembered correctly, Octavia might have said something along the lines of Bellamy being overly protective and that it was suffocating at times.

“I didn’t take a princess to be interested in Greek mythology.”

His voice made her jump, and when she looked up, she saw him standing behind her looking at her bookshelf and down at her drawing. She wasn’t going to tell him that her dad had read her the stories of the Greek gods and goddesses as a child, and how she had grown to love them because of that. It was something too intimate, and something Bellamy didn’t deserve to know about her—not that he would care.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I thought you said you wouldn’t bother me.”

He laughed, and Clarke wanted so badly to be annoyed by the sound of his laugh but the only thing that annoyed her was the way her body reacted to it.

“I just thought I’d save you the trouble from having to think of something clever to say to try and impress me.”

“Oh, right because I’m eighteen and expected to throw myself at you.”

“I mean,” he gestured to himself, “look at me.”

Clarke snickered. “You’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Bellamy leaned against her desk and crossed his arms. “I work hard to look this good, so yeah. Maybe a little bit.”

Before Clarke could respond, her phone rang. She took a glance at the caller ID and rolled her eyes as she hit ignore.

“Someone having problems with mommy? What she cut your weekly allowance?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” she snapped, but Bellamy couldn’t snark back because Clarke’s phone rang again.

“You better get that,” Bellamy said before slithering back to Octavia’s side of the room, leaving Clarke to deal with her mother.

Clarke deeply sighed and answered, “Look, I don’t want to argue anymore. I—”

“Clarke,” Abby croaked out from the other side of the phone, and Clarke’s body ran cold because there isn’t much in existence that rattles her mom. Clarke stood up not knowing what to expect, but it wasn’t anything good. Not with the way her mom said her name.

“Mom, what is it?”

“It’s-it’s dad.” Clarke could count the number of times she has seen or heard her mom cry, and it wasn’t many. Including now, it was no more than fifteen.

“You’re scaring me.”

“There was an accident.” There was a pause. Clarke didn’t want her mom to finish what she was going to say because deep down, Clarke felt it. All day something was looming in the air, and Clarke wanted to exist in the world for a second longer where her dad was okay and smiling. But the world kept moving. “He-he didn’t make it.”

The words touched Clarke’s ear, and it made her world stop. She felt paralyzed. It couldn’t be real. She had spoken to him only a few hours ago. He was alive. He was breathing. They were joking and laughing together over the phone. She had promised she would make it home by the end of the month, and they were going to veg out and watch Harry Potter the way they always did around Halloween. It was a deal sealed with a promise—a promise that was now broken.

It couldn’t be real, but it was. And, it was the reality of it that hit Clarke with the pain of a thousand cuts, and her phone slipped out of her hands and crashed to the floor as a sob escaped her lips.

“Noo,” she cried as she dropped to the ground.

It felt like the air had been vacuumed out of the room as she gasped between her howling cries. She grabbed at her hair and began to rock herself whispering no, no, no over and over.

“Clarke, look at me.” The voice seemed distant to Clarke. It wasn’t until she felt the warmth of hands around her wrist that she realized Bellamy was kneeling in front of her. “Breathe.”

“He’s,” she gasped for air, “my dad, he-he’s gone.” A heart wrenching sobbed came from Clarke before she felt arms circle around her. And, she doesn’t remember much after that.

* * *

The week that followed the news of Jake Griffin’s death Clarke felt like a shell of herself. A piece of her heart was missing, and she wasn’t sure how to process it. Her dad was dead, and she was never going to see him again, ask him for advice, laugh with him, or anything. He was gone. Just like that. 

She laid in her dark bedroom with light seeping in from the window. It was the day she and her mom laid her dad to rest, and he took Clarke’s final goodbye with him as she sprinkled the dirt on his casket. She hadn’t cried since the night he died. At the viewing, she shifted into autopilot as one person after another gave their condolence. She knew they meant well, but after the fifth person, she wanted to tell them to fuck off. Their “sorry for your loss” wasn’t going to bring her dad back. At the burial, she held her mom’s hand as they both stared at the coffin. The only difference was her mom was crying, but Clarke couldn’t shed a single tear.

There was a dip in her bed, and she felt a hand reach for hers.

“I have to go back tomorrow,” she whispered. “Wells, how am I supposed to go back to school and pretend like I didn’t lose the most important person in my life?”

“You don’t pretend.”

“I don’t know if I can keep it together.”

“Clarke, it’s okay if you don’t. You're allowed to fall apart.”

She shook her head. “I’m not.”

“You’re allowed to take off your armor. You have people who care about you, Clarke.” Wells turned on his side to face Clarke, and she mirrored him. “You aren’t alone. You have me. You’ll always have me. And, when you go back to campus, you can call me whenever and I’ll come, okay?”

She nodded because she didn’t know what to say to that. She never had to question whether she could depend on Wells because she knew he would always be there, but it was nice to be assured. “Wells, can you just hold me?”

He didn’t say anything as he wrapped his arms around her. It was in the comfort of her bedroom with her best friend that Clarke fell apart again, and Wells only held her tighter and whispered everything will get better. Clarke wanted to believe him, but she didn’t see how things could. Not when it felt like she had a gaping hole in her heart that only got bigger with each breath.

She didn’t want to think about leaving tomorrow. She had talked to Octavia a few times, but for the most part, Clarke had been ignoring everything back in New York. None of it seemed important. Not her classes and the assignments she would have to make up. Not her new friendships (this excluded Octavia's). Not the slight embarrassment she felt for sobbing in Bellamy’s arms. She wanted to stay here in her childhood bedroom with Wells, but life moved on after death.

* * *

Clarke’s first day back she was trying to find the energy to get out of bed and make it to her noon class, but she didn’t think it was going to happen. She wanted to spend the day in her bed away from everything. She had gotten in late last night, and Octavia had already gone to bed. And in the morning, Clarke pretended to be asleep while Octavia got ready for her morning class, but that didn’t mean Clarke couldn’t feel Octavia’s concerned gaze. She wasn’t ready to talk, and that was what was going to happen if she went to class. The few friends she had made would likely ask where she was last week, and her professor might even ask how she was doing. She wasn’t ready to hear more condolences yet, so she decided that she would take one more day where she would spend it in her bed.

Later that day, when Octavia came back, Clarke turned towards the wall and pretended to be asleep. She had hoped Octavia would be in and out of the room, on her way to meet her TA, but instead, Clarke heard Octavia settle in at her desk. Octavia wasn’t going to be going anywhere, and Clarke desperately wanted to beg Octavia to leave the room. She was about to, but then she heard Octavia speak.

“Hey, Bell.” There was a pause. “I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to her. She’s been sleeping.”

Another pause.

“I’m worried about her.”

Pause.

“I just want her to be okay.”

Pause.

“I know, Bell. But I remembered when mom died you isolated yourself. I don’t want her to do that. I want Clarke to know she isn’t alone. I know I only met her a month ago, but she’s…I don’t know. She’s a good person, and I care about her.”

Clarke hadn’t realized she had started crying until she heard herself sniffling, and Octavia quickly mumbled, “Bell, I’ll call you back.”

“Clarke?” Octavia said, and Clarke took notice of how Octavia approached her like she was a wounded animal. In some ways, she guesses she was—at least at the moment.

Clarke slowly sat up and pushed herself against her headboard. Ever since she cried in Wells' arms yesterday, she couldn’t stop the tears. It was like the floodgate had burst open, and she couldn’t hold it together. No matter how hard she tried.

Octavia tentatively sat at the edge of Clarke’s bed, and Clarke shook her head. “I…I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Another day, maybe, but not today.”

“I understand. Do you wanna maybe watch a movie together?”

Clarke didn’t have the energy to talk, so she nodded. Clarke appreciated Octavia trying to comfort her. She had made a few friends during her first month here, but Octavia has quickly become one of her closest friends. Granted she only ever really had Wells, but now she had Octavia to add to that list. And, she felt lucky for it.

Octavia settled in next to Clarke, and she says nothing as she grabbed Clarke’s hand. But after a moment, she said, “I’m here for you.”

“I know.” Clarke dropped her head on Octavia’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

* * *

The next day while in her biology class, just as Clarke predicted, her friend Monty asked her where she’s been, and she gave him a watery smile and said she had a loss in her family. She couldn’t bring herself to say it was her dad, even though she knew he was never coming back. Monty told her he was sorry, and she said nothing in return besides gave him the same smile she did before she answered his question.

And, the rest of the day she kept to herself. She went to her classes, but she sat in the back and ignored the looks she got from someone when she sat in their unassigned seat. She didn’t care. She talked to her professors and made arrangements to make up the missed classes and a few assignments. And when her day was done, she returned to her dorm. Octavia was going to be out. Clarke asked if she could have a couple of hours to herself—she wanted to cry and call Wells.

But when she got to her room, she saw someone she really didn’t care to see leaning against her door.

“You’re back,” he said. He stepped off to the side, and Clarke moved to unlock her door.

“Finn, I’m not really in the mood.”

“I need to explain myself.” He tried to follow her in, but she tossed her bookbag inside holding the door to block him.

“No, you don’t.” She didn’t want to be around him. Her date with Finn happened the same day her life changed, and that’s one thing she thought of when she looked at him. And, if that wasn’t enough, he had a damn girlfriend.

“I really do.”

“Honestly, Finn, I don’t really care what you have to say. Now, leave me alone and go back to your girlfriend.” She closed her door, ignoring his pleads.

Usually to unwind, Clarke would turn to a blank page in her sketchpad. But drawing didn’t feel the same to her. Being at NYU and majoring in art didn’t feel the same anymore. Her dad supported her, but she didn’t have that anymore. And, that thought sent her into a fit of rage she couldn’t explain. She was mad at the person who thought they could drive drunk. She was mad that the person died, so there would be no justice for her dad. She was mad at herself for not choosing a school closer to home. She was mad at the damn universe for taking her dad away too soon.

Without thinking, Clarke started throwing things off her desk. First her jar of color pencils, then her stack of books, her laptop. She couldn’t stop, and the only reason she didn’t completely destroy the room was that someone had knocked on the door.

“Go away, Finn,” Clarke shouted through her tears because she didn’t think it could be anyone else.

“It’s Bellamy.”

“Octavia’s not here.”

“I know. I came to check on you.”

At his words, Clarke wiped her eyes and stomped to the door. “Why?”

“Because you lost a parent, Clarke,” Bellamy said as soon as the door was open.

“I know. You were here, but why do you care? We don’t like each other.” Clarke noted she was probably snapping at the wrong person, but anger was building inside of her and he was here. Acting as he cared about her when moments before she had gotten the call about her dad, he was mocking her.

“So, let’s not pretend to like each other. You’re only here because you feel sorry for me. I don’t need your pity, Bellamy. I just need everyone to leave me the fuck alone.”

She tried to close the door, but he held out his hand and pushed it open. “I won’t do that.”

“Why not?” She tried to blink away her tears. “I just want to be alone. Please, just leave.” Tears escaped, and she swiftly wiped her cheeks.

“I can’t do that.”

“Bellamy, please,” she sobbed.

He didn’t say anything. He stepped inside the room, closed the door behind him, and stepped towards Clarke, and without wasting another second, Bellamy wrapped his arms around Clarke. She remembered him doing this the night her dad died, feeling the pain that consumed her and the only thing to offer light was his touch. His arms. Warmth erupted through her, and she didn’t understand why. But the relief she felt, the second of content, it was too soon to feel it.

Clarke abruptly pushed Bellamy away. “Don’t do that. You don’t like me!” She yelled at him. “You wouldn’t be here if my dad hadn’t died. He’s dead, Bellamy! My dad!” She choked out. “He’s never coming back. I’m, I’m never going to see him again.”

Bellamy tried to reach for her, but Clarke stepped back.

“No! Stop. I told you I don’t need your fucking pity!”

“Then tell me what you do need.”

“I need to be left alone.”

He sighed, “And I told you I can’t do that. So, what else?”

Clarke didn’t say anything. She shook her head as she stared him down. She expected to see him looking at her the way everyone else did the day of the funeral, but he was staring at her in understanding. He really did want to help, at least that’s what Clarke thought, but she didn’t want his help because he couldn’t help her.

“What do you need Clarke?” he cautiously took a half step forward.

“I need my dad,” she cried, and she couldn’t stop.

Bellamy took the last remaining steps between them and took Clarke in his arms again. She felt the same way she did in Wells’ arms, and Clarke didn’t want to question it. She wanted a minute where the pain dulled, and she felt like she could breathe. So, Clarke let herself be held and buried her face into the crook of Bellamy’s neck.

“It’s okay. I got you,” he whispered, and Clarke held onto tighter.

* * *

Clarke had cried herself to sleep, but Bellamy didn’t leave. And, she only knew that because she heard the door open and immediately heard Bellamy say, “Be quiet.” 

Clarke thought about getting up, but her eyes felt swollen and she was still exhausted. So, she stayed silent.

“Bell, what are you doing?”

“Lower your voice, O. Clarke’s asleep.”

“Good. She didn’t look great this morning. I mean, under the circumstances, I understand. But you didn’t answer. Why are you here?”

“I came to check on her.”

“Why? You don’t even like her.”

There was a minute of silence, and Clarke thought about stretching like she was barely waking up and not eavesdropping on their conversation. But, she didn’t.

“Because I was here when she got the call, and I remembered the day I got the call about mom. It was like watching myself. O, you didn’t see her. One minute I was teasing her, and the next minute she was falling to the floor. The way you talk about her, and as much as you talk about her, I feel like I know her sometimes. She doesn’t seem like she lets people see her break, and that night I did. I just had to make sure she was okay.”

“Oh. You do actually like her.”

“I don’t know really know her, O.”

“And, yet you stayed with her.”

“I didn’t think she should be alone when she woke up. And, now that you’re here I should probably go. I have work in the morning.”

Clarke didn’t let Octavia respond because she pretended to stir awake, and when she rolled over on her side, she saw both Blake siblings looking at her.

“Hey,” Bellamy said. “I was just on my way out.”

Clarke slowly sat up and threw her legs over the edge of her bed, and she took notice of how Bellamy took a step forward. “I should thank you.”

He shook his head. “There’s no need.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I cleaned up the broken jar. Just be careful until one of you vacuums,” Bellamy looked between his sister and Clarke.

“Thank you,” Clarke said, and without much thought, she was the one to surprise him as she threw her arms around his neck. “For everything,” she whispered to him, and that’s all it took for him to wrap his arms around her.

“Now that’s something I thought I’d never see.”

Clarke looked at her roommate to see Octavia smirking at the two of them, and she didn’t want to think of what that smirk meant. But she couldn’t really ignore the comfort she felt in Bellamy’s arms, but she was sure going to try.

* * *

“So, which Blake sibling are we hanging out with tonight?” Wells teased her, and Clarke almost shoved him off her bed.

It’s been a little over two months since the day Bellamy came and stopped her from breaking everything in hers and Octavia’s room, and since then, something shifted between them. Bellamy started coming to visit Octavia more and stayed around even when she wasn’t around. Eventually, Bellamy stopped using Octavia as an excuse to stop by. And a few times, when Octavia went home, she dragged Clarke along.

During this time, Clarke learned more about him. Like it wasn’t just his sister he was overprotective over, but everyone he cared about. She learned that he never went to college, but someday he’d like to go and major in history. She learned a little about his and Octavia’s mom, and her passing three years ago. He told her how he took custody over Octavia. He was only eighteen himself, and Clarke admired him for stepping up to raise his fifteen-year-old sister because he couldn’t possibly abandon her. Although, Clarke had a feeling he’d been raising her since the day Octavia was born.

She learned the little things too. Like his favorite color was blue because it reminded him of the ocean. It was one of the few cliché things about him. His favorite holiday was Halloween because it was the one time of year he was able to be anybody but himself. But Clarke couldn’t understand why he’d want to be anybody but himself. Because Clarke thought Bellamy was pretty great.

“Shut up. But, for your information, it’s just the two of us. Octavia is out with Lincoln, and Bellamy is out with some friends.”

“What?” Wells mocked surprise. “You’re actually saying I don’t have to fight a Blake for your attention.”

“Nope,” Clarke popped the p. “You have my full attention.”

“Good. I kind of missed you.”

Clarke laughed. “What are you talking about? We video chat at least three times a week and talk every single day.”

“Yeah, but someone is always around. I loved that you made friends here because it means you aren’t alone, but I missed my best friend.”

“Well, it’s a good thing it’s just you, me, and cheesy Christmas movies.”

Clarke and Wells settled in her bed with their snacks. Clarke did miss this. Wells was right it’s been a while since it’s only been the two of them, and she missed time spent with him. She had to take all the time she could. It’s something she took from her dad’s death.

“Your mom’s worried you’re not going to come home for Christmas,” Wells said halfway through their first movie of the night. “You know since you didn’t come home for Thanksgiving.”

Clarke remembered feeling panicked about going home for the holiday. She was in the taxi, and she only made it down the street before she told the driver to stop. She had called her mom once she was back in her room and lied and said she had a big assignment due, and when her mom insisted she could drive to the city, Clarke convinced her not to. Clarke knew her mom was also struggling with the loss of her dad too, but she couldn’t be around her mom without wishing her dad was there. Especially on a day people were usually surrounded by family.

Clarke broke a piece of licorice and rolled it between her fingers. “It hurts.”

“You know if you stay here, your mom isn’t going to just stay home this time, and neither am I.”

“I don’t want to go home for Christmas. It’s too soon.”

Wells slung his arm around Clarke’s shoulder and squeezed her. “I guess it’s Christmas in New York then. Do you want to tell your mom or should I?” Clarke smiled sheepishly at him, and it was all he needed. “I’ll tell her as soon as I get back.”

The rest of the night Clarke and Wells spent it the way any best friends would. Wells teased her about her growing friendship with Bellamy, and Clarke hoped Wells didn’t notice the flush of her cheeks. To get back at him, she questioned Wells about the girl in his Poli-Sci class he was always going on about.

It was close to midnight when Clarke heard Wells heavily breathing. It was only a matter of minutes before sleep took her as well, but before her heavy eyelids could give in, her phone vibrated against her dresser, and she felt butterflies in her stomach when she saw the name that flashed across the screen.

“Hello,” she answered.

“Clarke!” Bellamy shouted from the other side of the phone, and she tried to stifle her laughter. “I miss you.”

“You literally saw me yesterday.”

“Yeah, but that was yesterday,” he whined. “Can I tell you a secret?” His words ran together. Clarke wasn’t even sure he was going to remember this call in the morning.

“Of course, you can.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

Clarke tried to tell her heart to slow down, but it was ramming against her ribcage. Her lips spread into a smile, and she couldn’t stop no matter how hard she tried.

Clarke laughed nervously. “You’re drunk.”

“Very true,” he chuckled. “But in the morning, I’ll be sober and you’ll still be beautiful.”

Clarke didn’t have time to respond which was good because what was she supposed to say to that. On Bellamy’s side of the phone, she heard someone wrestling the phone away from Bellamy and his loud protests.

“Sorry about that. He’s had a little too much to drink.”

“It’s fine. Just text me when you get him home please.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. If I don’t, you’ll call twenty times.”

Called rolled her eyes, but there was no lie in that statement. “Thanks, Miller.” She hung up her phone and sighed heavily. And as soon as she received the text, Clarke gave in to sleep.

The next morning, she woke up with several text messages all from Bellamy.

**Bellamy 8:03am**

I’m sorry I called last night. I might  
have gotten a little too drunk.

Okay really drunk.

**Bellamy 8:05am**

Text me when you get up. Me, you,  
Wells, and O can go get breakfast.  
I’ll even tell O she can bring Lincoln.

**Bellamy 8:51am**

Soo, Miller just told me what I said  
to you last night. I’m  
sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

**Bellamy 8:56am**

But it’s the morning and my headache  
is all the proof that I need to know  
that I’m sober.

**Bellamy 8:57am**

That was me telling you  
that you’re still beautiful.  
You know in case you didn’t know. 

Clarke bit back her smile. She didn’t know what any of this meant. Clarke had been careful when it came to her friendship with Bellamy. Her emotions were all over the place. One minute she was fine with life, but that usually happened when she let herself think, only for a minute, that her dad was still out there. She dropped her phone on her chest and stared at the ceiling because other times, mostly involving Bellamy, there was a battle going on within her.

“You know it’s okay to be happy. He’d want you to be happy.” Wells' voice was filled with sleep. Of course, he was up. And of course, he’d be able to read her mind.

“I know.” Because she did. Her dad only ever wanted what was best for her. He supported her through everything, and maybe that’s why she couldn’t move forward in life. She couldn’t possibly think of starting a new chapter in her life that didn’t include her dad. Life moves forward, but she wasn’t ready yet.

* * *

Clarke didn’t think much could change between her and Bellamy, but after the night he called her, and his morning texts, something shifted once again between them. Their bickering was teetering the line of flirtation, and she wondered if Bellamy knew he was telling her she was beautiful almost every single time he saw her. If he didn’t, Clarke didn’t want to bring it to his attention in case he might stop. But Clarke also noticed that she found herself pulling away if she felt like she was getting too close. These new things she was feeling towards him was sometimes too much.

Wells was right about Clarke’s dad wanting her to be happy, but it felt wrong. So, when Clarke was around Bellamy and she found herself smiling and laughing too much and feeling the lightness in her heart, she ran from the conversation. One time it was literal, and he laughed which only made her feel something more for him. Something she didn’t want to label because she didn’t need to freak herself out more.

“So, are you going home for Christmas?” Octavia asked. She was packing some of her things up before heading home since she had her last final today.

“My mom’s actually coming into the city with Wells and his dad. It’s too hard to be home.” Clarke sat on her bed staring at her stark white comforter.

“I get it. It was hard for me and Bell our first Christmas without our mom, too. You know,” Octavia turned to look at Clarke, “you guys are more than welcome to come over. It’s usually just me and Bell and sometimes Miller if he can’t make it home. I invited Lincoln but he wanted to go home which I totally understand. But we wouldn’t mind having more people over. It might actually be nice.”

Clarke smiled shyly. She couldn’t explain to Octavia why that wasn’t a good idea. Her mom was controlling every day of the year, but around holidays it only intensified. Clarke could already picture her mom walking around Octavia’s and Bellamy’s house trying to rearrange decorations. She knew her mom liked the Blake siblings because she had told Clarke such. But Clarke wasn’t sure how much the Blakes would like her mom after the holiday.

“It’ll get easier,” Octavia said. “It might not feel like it now, but it will. Bellamy took our mom’s death harder than I did, so he might have better advice if he hadn’t already talked to you.”

He did. On days that were particularly hard for Clarke her phone calls gradually switched from calling Wells to calling Bellamy, and he was the one who would talk her down. He listened to her talk about her dad. He was the one that told her to not feel guilty about moving forward with life. He had stopped himself from feeling happiness for so long after his mom’s death that he just made himself more miserable, and he told Clarke he didn’t want that for her. He also told her the pain would never truly go away it would just start to become something that was manageable, and even on rare days, the pain would be nonexistent.

“Can I just ask one thing of you?” Octavia took a step forward, and Clarke sat up a little straighter and nodded. “Bellamy has a big heart, and you’re a piece of it now. All I’m asking is not to hurt my brother.” Clarke parted her lips to say something, but Octavia held up her hand. “I know you guys are just friends, and you’re still dealing with…well you know. But I know where this is heading. I think you do too, but you’re not ready to admit it. Just, don’t hurt my brother. Okay?”

Clarke couldn’t argue with Octavia because she would do the same thing for Wells, so Clarke did the only thing she could and said, “Okay.”

* * *

On Christmas Eve, Clarke had spent the night with her mom, Wells, and Wells’ dad, Thelonious, camped out in the too large suite her mom booked for the next couple of weeks, and the four of them spent the night playing board games and watching Home Alone 2 because Wells found it fitting since they were in New York. Clarke tried to ignore the way her chest ached when she would look around the room and didn’t see her dad, and she knew her mom felt it too as Clarke watched her mom look at the stockings hanging near the fireplace and stare at the one with Jake sewed in with red thread. It was the first Christmas where her dad wouldn’t be here, and she couldn’t find a thing to be happy about the entire night. Or, maybe she didn’t want to find anything to smile about, and it’s why when Bellamy texted her, she ignored it and pretended she didn’t see Wells looking at her knowingly.

After Wells and Thelonious returned to their room, Clarke and Abby snuggled together on the couch. There was a Christmas movie playing on the TV, but Clarke was paying any attention to it. She was trying to keep her eyes open as her mom ran her fingers through her hair.

“Mom, can I ask you something?” It was the first time in a long time Clarke heard herself sound like a child. It must be because she felt like one at the moment.

“You can ask me anything.”

“Is it okay that I feel happy sometimes?”

“Oh baby, of course, it is.” Abby shifted herself and Clarke so they were facing each other, and Abby brushed Clarke’s hair out of her face. “I know it’s still hard. Sometimes I don’t even want to get out of bed, and other days I’m having lunch with friends and I hear myself laughing and I feel like me again. Those don’t happen often, but when they do, I enjoy them.”

Clarke blinked a few times to push away the tears. “I feel so guilty sometimes when I feel like I’m moving on. Bell, Bellamy told me I shouldn’t hold myself back, but,” Clarke stopped.

“He’s the one that makes you want to move forward with life.” Abby smiled at her. “It’s okay if you do. You can be happy.” Abby thumbed away Clarke’s tears. “Dad loved us both so much, and I have to believe he’d want us to be happy.”

“Wells said the same thing.”

“And is Wells ever wrong?”

“No. But don’t tell him I said that.”

Abby chuckled. “It’s our secret. You know, your dad would have liked Bellamy.” Clarke smiled because she had thought the same thing more than once. “Why don’t you see if they’re busy tomorrow.”

“Octavia actually invited us over for Christmas. Can we go over there instead?”

“We can.”

**Clarke 10:58pm**

Is the invitation still open for tomorrow?

**Octavia 11:03pm**

Yes! It’ll let Bell know. He’ll be  
excited!  
Be here by 9. Bell makes the  
best Christmas breakfast! Trust me  
you don’t want to miss it!

* * *

The lot of them arrived at the Blakes’ house at five till nine, and Clarke tried to tell her heart to be still. Especially when Bellamy opened the door wearing glasses. She had no idea he wore glasses, but they were sure working for him.

“Octavia said we shouldn’t miss breakfast,” Clarke said, and he smiled at her. And, it’s the first time she fully let herself feel the effect of his smile.

“Yeah, come in. I’m just about done.”

Clarke followed in after everyone, and as soon as Clarke walked in through the threshold, she wrapped her arms around Bellamy.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text back,” she said so only he can hear.

He held her tighter. “It’s okay. You’re here now.”

After introductions, mostly Thelonious getting acquainted with everyone, they all squeezed around the table to eat Bellamy’s Christmas breakfast—cinnamon French toast, banana pancakes, bacon, and fresh cut strawberries. Octavia went on and on about how Bellamy makes everything from scratch, and Clarke pictured in her head, only for a second, what future Christmas mornings with Bellamy by her side would be like.

Everyone single person sitting at the tabled was someone special to her. There was only one person missing, but she couldn’t do anything to change that. It was at the realization Clarke excused herself from the table and went to the bathroom, and she let the first tears of the day fall when she closed the door behind her.

She tried to think of her mom and Wells’ words, telling her it was okay to feel happy, because she did want to feel happy without the guilt sneaking in. She wanted to explore what was there between her and Bellamy because she knew she wasn’t imagining it. She wanted to laugh and not stop because she realized what she was doing. She wanted to feel fully alive again. She wanted to take back her happiness because it was something her dad would want her to do. It’s why he pushed NYU. Maybe he knew big things were waiting in the city for her.

There was a soft knock on the door. “Clarke?”

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Clarke sniffled. She splashed water on her face and counted to ten before opening the door where Bellamy was waiting for her.

“Do you want to talk?” he asked.

Clarke nodded, so Bellamy grabbed her hand and pulled her with him to his bedroom. He didn’t let go after he led them to his bed, and she wasn’t going to say anything because her hand felt right in his.

“It’s the holidays, huh?” he ran his thumb up and down the side of her hand. “It was hard for me, too.”

Clarke looked at their hands. Their fingers were intertwined, and he must have noticed she was staring and thought she was uncomfortable because he tried to pull away. But she only held on tighter to stop him. She wasn’t going to let this moment get away.

“It’s not like we ever did anything special together. Well, we did watch Harry Potter, but my dad always found a reason to watch those movies. He loved them.” She watched his thumb stroke her hand, and she relished in his touch.

“Do you want to watch—”

“No,” she cut him off. “Maybe next year.”

This was it. It was now or never. 

“Bellamy?”

“Yeah?”

She turned to look at him, and she saw the way his brown eyes scanned her face and landed on her lips. She looked at his and wondered how they would feel. She looked back up to meet his eyes, and he was already staring at hers. It was now or never.

“I don’t want to feel guilty for being happy anymore.”

“That’s good because I want you to be happy.”

“Would you like to go on a date…with me?”

His lips curved up into a smile, and Clarke couldn’t stop herself from smiling. She welcomed the joy that washed through her. “I love to,” he said. He looked down their hands, and she followed his eyes. “Do, do we have to wait until the date to have our first kiss or…” he left his question open ended, and Clarke knew what it meant as soon as he looked back up.

She closed the gap between them. She sighed with content into the kiss, and Bellamy snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her close. This is what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to keep it from herself anymore.

She broke the kiss and leaned her forehead against his. “Merry Christmas, Bellamy.”

“Merry Christmas, Clarke.”

**Author's Note:**

> The phone call from a very drunk Bellamy was inspired by a scene from a movie that I can't remember the title. But  
> thank you for reading! You have no idea how much it means to me.  
> Kudos and comments make my day!


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